


Small Rescues

by Oparu



Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015), Star Wars Original Trilogy
Genre: F/M, Family Fluff, Han and Ben look after Leia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-10
Updated: 2016-03-10
Packaged: 2018-05-25 23:51:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,063
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6215152
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Oparu/pseuds/Oparu
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ben can tell when his mom's not feeling well, and drags along his dad to fix it. Total Han and Ben look after Leia fluff.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Small Rescues

**Author's Note:**

> For Shinewithalltheuntold, who hopefully feels better. 
> 
> I went with the Rey Organa Solo headcanon, or AU second kid, doesn’t matter which works for you. I used the 10 months in a year, 7 weeks in a months, 5 days in a week calendar from Wookieepedia because it’s funky and different.

“Dad!” Ben calls down the corridor on the  _ Falcon _ . The sound of his boots follows, quick and sharp on the smooth deck. “Dad, mom’s sick”

Han drags himself out from under the console, sets down the wrench and stares at his son’s very serious expression. Leia left early, before either of them were up, and that happens, a lot. She was tired last night, but that’s also incredibly common. Keeping a government functioning is harder than building one, and in many ways even harder than fighting off an oppressive one. Leia’s never slept much or taken it easy, perhaps for a while when Ben was very small, but the kid didn’t let either of them sleep much. She didn’t even get the Corulagi blue fever when that ran through the New Republic like an electric fire in the  _ Falcon’s _ ever-so-touchy hyperdrive. 

Ben’s dark eyes have that distant look he gets when he senses something. He sometimes hears his mother’s thoughts as if she’s speaking to him, but Leia’s always been so careful to make sure Ben has his own mind. She never wanted to invade his privacy. So if he’s getting something from her, it’s serious. 

Han doesn’t share their Force connection, so he has to have it explained to him. Took Ben years to figure that out. “What’s wrong?” 

“She’s sick.”

Han reaches for his son, guiding him down to sit beside him on the deck. “Is she sick or injured? Did something happen at her meeting? Close your eyes, see if you can hear something more specific.”

He nods, taking his father’s hand with his long fingers. Leia jokes that Ben has had his father’s hands since he was born. Han doesn’t remember his own hands ever being so small, but yeah, Ben has the long, slim fingers that look more like his. 

With his eyes closed, Ben hears better. Luke recommended that. “She’s going to throw up.”

“Your mom?”

Ben’s eyes pop open and fly to meet his father’s gaze. “Yeah. She doesn’t want to, but she will. I don’t think-”

“She probably hasn’t admitted that to herself yet.” 

Getting to his feet, Ben drags Han up with him. “We’ve got to get her.”

“We will,” Han promises, rubbing his hand through Ben’s dark hair. It’s so much darker than either of theirs, and he wonders sometimes which grandparent that came from. It makes Ben’s soulful face seem so much older, and the kid was born ancient. “She’s okay.”

“She’s not.”

He thought maybe they’d have this conversation a little later, but they’re probably lucky Ben hasn’t just announced that Leia’s pregnant, maybe before she even knew. She could just be sick, as Ben said, but considering their record… They only went off their inhibitors a few months ago, but Ben happened so quickly last time, so of course, baby number two’s also not wasting any time. He studies Ben’s worried face, wishing he was still small enough to pick up and reassure. 

“She’s going to be, does that help?”

Ben narrows his eyebrows, but nods a little, staring out of the Falcon towards the door, and the long corridors between them and Leia. “She was sick before, yesterday, but it wasn’t as bad.”

“I know,” he says, and Ben looks up, surprised. “I have my own ways of reading your mother’s mind, I promise.” Han tilts his head towards the gangway. “We can talk on the way, okay?”

Ben takes his hand, relieved now that they’re walking. “What happened?”

“Remember when we talked about having another kid?”

Ben stops in the corridor, turning to look up at his father. “That’s this?” 

“Probably,” Han answers. He puts his other hand on Ben’s shoulder. “We told you that we were going to start trying, and it might take a while, or it might not take much time at all. When we wanted you, you happened pretty quick.” 

“And I made mom sick too.”

“A little.” He hugs his son, because that’s a big thing for a kid, especially one who worries as much as Ben does. “And it was fine. She hated it.” 

“Really?”

“Not you, we loved you.” 

Ben takes that in, and for a moment, there’s a funny little smile, as if he’s getting too old to hear that. He’s not, because he hugs backs, staying against Han. 

“Your mom likes to be able to do things when she needs to do them. You know how hard it was for her when she was hurt.” Shrapnel from a terrorist attack had her in bed for a month, and even though it was extra time with Ben, he knows how hard that was for her. 

“So she’ll hate this.”

“A little.” Han rubs Ben’s head again and they resume walking. He has to take smaller steps so Ben can keep up, but he’s learned that over the years, walking with Leia. “She hates not being able to do things she has to do.”

“But she hates meetings too.”

Han chuckles and they get into the lift. He lets Ben press the button for the floor, because the kid can always find Leia, unerringly. It’s pretty useful. “Yeah, but they’re important.”

“The Senate is important for the future of the Republic, making sure we keep our democracy and don’t end up with another Empire,” Ben recites what Leia always tells him, and then grins at his dad. “She’d rather be with us though.”

Winking at his son, Han nods. “But she hates fixing the  _ Falcon _ .” 

“She hates how often the  _ Falcon _ has to be fixed,” Ben corrects him, and again, Han hears Leia in their son. “But not really.”

“Having a kid is the same thing. It’s kind of like the _Falcon_. You love it, but the hyperdrive doesn’t always work when you want it to, and sometimes the shield manifold sparks, and sometimes you spend whole days thinking you’re going to throw up.” 

Ben stands a little straighter, because he’s got it. It’s clicked in his mind. “What do we do?”

“Well,” Han pauses, fidgeting with his own hair. “When your mom was pregnant with you, I used to read her reports to her, so she didn’t have to read them. Data readers made her head hurt.”

“I can read.”

“You read really well,” Han agrees. The lift pulls them steadily downward. Leia’s meeting must be one of the more sensitive ones. Those are always far beneath the ground in the Senate complex. “So that helps. I used to crash her meetings.”

“Why?”

“Because I can tell when she’s going to throw up too. Not as well as you, I have to be next to her, but sometimes that’s enough to remind her that it’s okay to take a break.”  

“Mom’s not very good at that.”

Han nods, patting Ben’s shoulder again. “She’s got a lot to do, and it’s all important, which means she feels like she’s not doing her duty to her people when she sets it aside, even if it’s for a good reason.” 

“Like Uncle Luke.”

“Yeah. Your mom and your uncle both have things they do that are special, that only they can do, and people depend on them. They keep us safe, all of us, and that’s hard.”

The lift finally stops, and a pair of guards study them both. Ben holds up his ID card, and Han fishes his own out of his pocket. The war’s far enough in the past that half of security doesn’t know him as General Solo (or Organa, depending on how well they known Alderaan custom). Usually now he’s just the semi-famous pro-racer who happens to be married to Senator Organa of New Territories. 

The guards wave them through, and Han starts towards the meeting room on the end. He knows that one. Mon Mothma prefers the fake windows that look out over the sea, rather than the city. Ben stops him. 

“Not there.” He points towards the refresher room on the other end of the hall. “There.”

“Okay.” So it’s worse than Ben. For all she joked about wanting to throw up, she rarely did. “Right, kid, give me a minute, and then come in, okay?” 

Ben looks at the fancy marble floor and his scuffed boots. “She’s not happy.”

“Throwing up isn’t fun.”

“Can you help?”

“We’ll both help,” Han promises, hugging the kid again because he carries too many worries for someone so small. He crouches down, looking into Ben’s eyes. “This is hard for you mom, but she’s got us, and even though it doesn’t feel like we’re helping all the time. We are, because she loves us, and just having us around makes things better.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, kid.” Han ruffles his hair. “Took me a long time to figure that out, but it’s kind of how your mom and I do things. We make each other better, even when we don’t think we’re doing it. You’re like that too. Just having you around makes us happy.”

“Dad?”

“Yeah?”

“Go. Talk to her.” Something in Ben’s voice suggests that it’ll be more fixing Leia’s hair and holding it back than talking, but he can talk too.

He leaves Ben standing by the door, and heads into the very fancy refresher. Heads of State don’t get ordinary toilets, after all. Leia’s stack of data readers sits haphazardly on the marble sink, and he leans down to search for feet. 

Ben was right, of course, and he finds her curled up in the far cubicle. Leia feels him before he says anything and reaches back with one hand. He insinuates himself in beside her, then pulls her into his lap. 

“Hey.” 

“I’m sorry.”

“Sorry?”

“I felt Ben worry.”

“He’s here.”

“Han--” Leia gets to protest only for a moment before she retches, throwing up the caf she grabbed on the way out the door. That’s part of her problem. Hasn’t gotten into back into habit of eating more than a few cups of caf for breakfast. 

“He’s fine, you’re fine. We’re all fine here,” he promises, then kisses her forehead. She’s covered in sweat, and she’s not going back to that meeting, no matter what he has to tell Mon Mothma. “He was worried.”

“I tried to shut him out.”

“I know.” He pulls his good handkerchief (the one without crud from the  _ Falcon _ ) and hands it to her. “Kid’s perceptive.” 

“I wanted to wait.” 

He nods into her hair, then kisses her again. “We have terrible timing.”

Leia manages to smile, wiping her mouth on his handkerchief. “We’re lucky.”

“Yeah.”

She reaches back and pats his face. Then she’s quiet for a moment, and the door opens. Ben’s feet move slower this time, more tentative. 

“We’re here, kid,” Han calls. He reaches his hand back, waving around the door. Ben stands there, his small hands folded on his chest, and takes in his parents, wrapped on the floor together in front of the toilet. 

“Mom?”

“I’m okay.”

“You’re not.”

Leia smirks and shuts her eyes. When she opens them again, she looks from Han to their son. “It’s better with you here.”

Ben’s expression softens, as if he can feel she’s right through the Force. He stands a moment longer, then sits, mimicking his father’s position. 

“When will you feel better?”

Leia sighs, and she moves one of Han’s hands to her belly, letting it rest on their newest child. “A few weeks, hopefully.”

Ben nods at that, ever serious. “How long does a baby take?” 

“As long as he wants,” Han jokes and Leia nudges him with her elbow. “You took your time.”

“About eight months,” Leia explains more seriously. “Some of that’s already passed. I haven’t seen a doctor to ask how much, but we will. You can come with, or stay with Chewie.”

“But you’re happy?”

“Yes,” Leia answers quickly, reaching for the kid and pulling him in, so they’re all a tangled hug. “Having you made your father and I so happy. This baby’s just like that.” 

He’s almost too big to appreciate being hugged so tight, but Ben studies their faces, then rests his hand on Leia’s cheek. “Okay,” he starts, then smiles, just a little. “I’ll be happy.” 

“We love you,” Han adds, because they can never say that enough. “We love you so much.”

“I know,” Ben replies, sage but starting to smile a little brighter. “I know.” 


End file.
